


Coffee House AU

by jooliewrites



Series: Coliver Week 2014 [2]
Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Coffee Shops, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-03
Updated: 2014-12-03
Packaged: 2018-02-27 23:14:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2710190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jooliewrites/pseuds/jooliewrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Coliver and breakfast pastries.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coffee House AU

**Author's Note:**

> Cross posted from Tumblr. 
> 
> My take on Tuesday's prompt for [Coliver Week 2014](http://coliverweek.tumblr.com/) \- Coffee Shop AU

He wasn’t going to show.

Oliver fiddled with the cardboard sleeve around his coffee cup and tried not to be disappointed. These Friday morning breakfasts he and Connor had been having over the last few months were really more of a spontaneous thing rather than a set date. It wasn’t a big deal that Connor was running a little late this Friday. Or rather a lot late, Oliver thought with another glance at his phone.

Oliver took another small sip of his coffee, nursing the cup so he wouldn’t be finished with it when (if!) Connor showed up, and feeling like an idiot. This was stupid and if he waited much longer he was going to be late for work. He turned his phone over once more to find the time hadn’t changed at all before burying the stupid thing in is messenger bag. He spotted a wall clock hanging behind the counter and promised himself that he was going to give Connor three more minutes before washing his hands of this whole thing.

These ridiculous Friday morning breakfast things all began a few months ago when the coffee place they both frequented got a great review on a local foodie blog. Killer coffee! Amazing muffins! Surliest baristas in the city! This is your new morning pit stop! Overnight, the quaint neighborhood coffee shop Oliver had come to love was overrun. The morning after was bedlam and he was standing in a line that wasn’t moving when he heard Connor muttering to himself behind him. “If I get up there and they are out of dark roast, I’m gonna lose it.”

Oliver chuckled and half turned to throw a “Ditto” over his shoulder and just like that they struck up a conversation. Waiting in line, which still wasn’t moving but suddenly that fact wasn’t so annoying anymore, Connor and Oliver exchanged friendly chitchat before delving into a pleasant debate over the coffee shop’s best muffin. “Vanilla bean.” “No Oliver. I’m sorry. You’re just wrong. It’s the hazelnut.”

After that, they found themselves near each other in line a few more times and their interactions were limited to head nods and inane comments on the weather. Some mild flirtation may have been going on too but it was really neither here nor there. The whole acquaintanceship-almost friendship-thing going on between them was nothing to write home about but still Oliver figured at the very least it was nice to see a friendly face every morning.

All that changed one Friday when Oliver walked out of the shop to see Connor sitting at one of the outside tables. Neither of them ever sat to enjoy their coffee; both were always in a hurry to get to work. Oliver paused near Connor’s table and took more pleasure than he probably should in the fact that Connor visibly brightened when he saw him.

“I got here way too early this morning,” Connor explained. “Didn’t see the point in rushing off to just spend all day stuck inside.” Oliver agreed that Connor made the better choice and was about to say goodbye so he could head to work himself when Connor innocently asked, “Want to join me?” and to his own surprise Oliver really did.

He sat and Connor broke the somewhat awkward silence with a “So, what do you do again?” and they were off. They lingered over coffee and conversation and, for the first time in three years, Oliver walked into work almost a half an hour late and didn’t even care.

The next Friday found Oliver waiting at the table when Connor strolled up with a hazelnut and a vanilla bean muffin for them to compare and contrast. Soon it became a Friday morning tradition. They spent the morning getting to know each other better as they worked their way through the pastry case.

They talked about their siblings and became actual friends while discussing whether the cranberry orange had a deeper flavor than the blueberry lemon. They became good friends sharing stories of childhood pets loved and family members lost while debating which was the best seasonal choice: sweet potato or pumpkin spice. They became really good friends when Connor talked about his dad and Oliver shared about his mom as they split salted-caramel and hot buttered rum muffins. And Oliver figured he fell in love with Connor during one of Connor’s many rants about the evils of scones after they had exhausted the muffin selection and were forced to branch out to other breakfast pastries.

For weeks, Oliver had tried to work up the nerve to actually do something about it. He caught himself lingering over the last bite or sip, telling himself to stop acting like a love-sick teenager and just ask Connor out already, before chickening out. But today was really going to be the day. He wasn’t backing out this time. He really wasn’t. He was really (REALLY!) going to ask Connor out if Connor would just hurry up and get there already.

But it turned out today probably wasn’t going to be the day because Connor wasn’t showing. A glance at the clock confirmed that Oliver’s three-minute deadline had come and gone and he was still sitting there, waiting like a fool. He shook his head and downed the coffee. Standing up, he tossed the cup in the recycling and shoved the pastry bag with a vanilla bean and a hazelnut muffin (because he was a sap and liked the symmetry of it) in his bag.

Hitching the strap of the bag a little higher on his shoulder, Oliver walked out of the coffee shop and set off towards his office. He was attempting to focus on the positive – he was going to be on time on a Friday morning for the first time in months – when he heard someone calling his name. He glanced back to see Connor running down the street. The normally polished attorney was a mess. His hair looked like he had just rolled out of bed and hadn’t even run his fingers through it, much less a brush. His tailored suit was no where to be found; winkled jeans and a shirt with a nice big bleach stain on one sleeve were in it’s place. And the running shoes on his feet weren’t even tied.

Connor came to a stop near Oliver and, on an explosion of breath, spurted out “Overslept.” He threw a hand out to rest against a bus sign and bent over to try and catch his breath. Through his heaving, Connor tried to explain what happened but the story was so disjointed Oliver couldn’t follow. There was something about this phone alarm and his neighbor’s dog and the bus he normally took and someone named Michaela but it was all very confusing and he knew he wasn’t really getting the whole story.

“And anyways,” Connor said over one last huff of breath. “That’s why I need your cell number. Cause this was ridiculous.”

After a moment, Oliver told him honestly, “I didn’t catch any of that.”

“Oh man.” Connor’s face fell. “I have to explain it all again?”

“No. Not now. I’m already late for work,” Oliver interrupted before Connor could start up again. “How about tonight?”

“Tonight?”

“Yeah. Tonight,” Oliver said as he adjusted the strap on his bag again and forced himself not to look away from Connor’s gaze. “We could debate dinner food for once.”

“Dinner?” Connor grinned. “I’d like that.”

“Good,” Oliver smiled back. “What are you thoughts on Italian food?”

“Varied.”

“Fantastic.”

**Author's Note:**

> [x](http://ramblesandreblogs.tumblr.com/)


End file.
